


Wait

by Tish



Series: The Terror Rarepair Week [4]
Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Cock & Ball Torture, Gags, M/M, Nipple Play, Nipple Torture, Predicament Bondage, Rope Bondage, Semi-Public Sex, Sensation Play, Sensory Overload, Subspace, Suspension, Table Sex, Thirstday, Topson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21558682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish
Summary: Little didn't know how he and Jopson had fallen into this. There were no set rules, just implicit trust.
Relationships: Thomas Jopson/Lt Edward Little
Series: The Terror Rarepair Week [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542484
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2019





	1. The Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Terror Kink Meme prompt,  
> "Jopson/Little (TOPSON) and full on bdsm bondage!! (Kinda dark!Jopson?)"
> 
> https://terrorkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/396.html?thread=244108#cmt244108
> 
> It also fits with what I'd planned for The Terror Rare Pair Week Thirstday

Edward stared at the small, frosted bottle that sat next to the water jug, its amber liquid gleaming in the lamp-light. The waiting was always the worst, he felt.

He could hear muted sounds from George's cabin, a door sliding, boots dropped to the floor, a cough, and water sloshing about. Edward forced himself to listen, picturing every movement in his mind, all the better to distract himself from the wait, and from what he'd hidden under the blanket.

As George settled in for the night, more distant and indistinct sounds came to Edward's ears. Fragments of Gibson's voice, then John's, another door sliding shut, and a receding footfall.

Edward now sat in a bubble of silence, the lamp turned low enough to make out a dash of light from the alleyway creeping under the door. He gripped the wooden crest of the wave carved into the bed-rail, breathless and shivering with anticipation.

There was a soft rumble as the door to the great-cabin opened then closed and Jopson walked by, a fleeting shadow and a soft tap at Edward's door as he went. Edward's heart leapt into his throat, gripping the rail even tighter, and it was all he could to stop himself from dragging Jopson inside there and then.

_Wait_ , Jopson had told him to wait. So, wait Edward did.

Edward's pocket-watch was set upon his table, and he could see only a minute has passed, _knew_ it was only a minute, yet he felt it to be hours. Arousal stirred in his loins, and he fought the urge to tend to himself, not wanting to spend too soon and ruin the night.

The light under the door was suddenly blotted out, and as it slid open, Edward felt his member could burst open and his issue pierce the prism of the Preston illuminator above him.

For an instant, Jopson was silhouetted against the alley lamps, then he was inside the cabin, back firmly against the closed door. Edward marvelled at how he'd managed to slide it so quietly, and so fast.

In the low light, Jopson smiled as he watched Edward regain his composure. As George's snoring filtered through the wall, Edward sighed with relief – he'd be out all night, now.

“Are you ready, sir?” Jopson asked in hushed tones.

Edward nodded cautiously, utterly beguiled by how Jopson could say the word 'sir' to him, and still sound totally in control. He stood, pulling his nightshirt up, over his head to discard it.

Naked, Edward waited as Jopson just watched him, eyes lingering on his prick as the steward's gaze roamed his body. He felt the blood rush down, filling his already straining erection, yearning for Jopson to touch it, to grab it and do with it as he pleased.

In an instant, Jopson closed the short distance between them, one hand upon Edward's thick cluster of chest hair, the other behind his neck, clutching at a long curl of hair. He kissed Edward roughly, pulling his body closer, and Edward moaned softly, grinding himself against Jopson's trousers.

Edward reached up to touch Jopson, but got his head pulled back slightly, his hair getting a sharp tug.

“No, sir,” Jopson breathed sternly.

Edward's hands dropped back to his side and gave Jopson a pleading look through thick eyelashes. Jopson transferred his kisses to Edward's neck, letting his teeth scrape the skin just under his muttonchops, and Edward gasped, trying to kiss Jopson's hair.

Jopson started working a thumb around a nipple, pressing and pushing it, as Edward tried not to moan too loudly. Releasing Edward's hair, Jopson moved his other hand down to torment the other nipple, suddenly kissing and barely biting one. Edward yelped, then clamped his hand over his mouth, his laughter smothered as Jopson's hand followed close behind.

As they stood together silently giggling, the soft snoring from the next cabin paused, then changed rhythm. Jopson quickly recomposed himself and glared sternly at Edward.

“Sir, I shall have to punish you for that infraction,” he whispered threateningly.

Edward went wide-eyed, his eager 'yes' muffled under their hands. With his other hand, he pulled away the blanket, revealing the object he'd so guiltily taken from the box near the aft stairway.

“Perhaps I should have had you retrieve one from the forward section. Crossed the length of the ship with it as though you were a petty officer and not a lieutenant,” Jopson said as he twisted a nipple, his voice barely a whisper. “Turn around.”

Edward was torn, he was eager to turn and receive his punishment, but also yearning to gaze into Jopson's eyes whenever they caught the light. He turned, awaiting his due.

Jopson gently pushed Edward to kneel on the bed, taking his arms behind him and setting them folded behind his back. Edward gasped a little at the strain as Jopson took the rope from beside the blanket and started tying along his arms, fixing them in place.

Facing the gloom of the bulkhead, Edward found himself blinded as a length of cloth -- his own cravat -- was wrapped around his eyes. He shuddered with pleasure at the sensation.

Next, Jopson wound the rope around Edward's body, fashioning a corset of sorts, a thick knot anchoring each section around his midriff. Edward gasped, bracing himself as he felt the rope slide roughly between his legs, then around one thigh. He knelt precariously, simultaneously hating and savouring the coarse feeling against his prick and sack as the rope moved.

There was a stillness and Edward let out a small gasp of frustration, sensing Jopson had stepped away from the bed.

Heat spread against Edward's leg as the rope moved again, and he had a sensation of being lifted up on his side and with one leg hitched up, yet he couldn't feel Jopson's hands upon him. He suddenly realised he was being lifted by the ropework, suspended from hooks perhaps. He began to search his memory of his cabin layout, but was deliciously distracted by Jopson's hand on his prick.

Edward let out a soft moan as he felt a silky ribbon being tied around his erect prick, tiny knots set along the length, pulling it away from his body and tied to something. He felt a throb in his prick and moaned louder as the knot rubbed against his skin.

Next thing he knew, he was being turned around and Jopson's prick was shoved inside his mouth.

“Be quiet, sir,” Jopson insisted, as Edward moaned again.

Edward felt Jopson's prick grow, and he rolled his tongue around it, getting a barely audible groan in reply.

“Do you know what I intend for you, sir?” Jopson's severe demeanour was being tested by Edward's tongue, but he went on, fucking Edward's mouth agonisingly slowly. “You will swallow my prick's entire length, drinking down my last drop. You shall take my member up to the hilt and scream out for more. I shall have you on the wardroom table, and the Captain's table. I will fuck you in Admiralty House, and up a crow's nest. You shall be on your knees begging for it in front of the ship's boys, and the Admiral of the Fleet.”

Edward was nearly being driven out of his mind from multiple stimulations – Jopson's quiet, insistent voice; his prick in his mouth; not to mention the rope burning against his own prick, stretched taut by the ribbon. He groaned and redoubled his efforts as Jopson held his thick waves, fingers splayed out at the back of Edward's head.

Jopson suddenly came in his mouth, and Edward blindly drank him in, gasping both for breath and for more. Jopson held his head as he breathed, gently stroking through his hair.

“Very good, sir,” Jopson said between ragged breaths.

As Edward's breathing returned to normal, he whispered a hoarse, “thank you.”

Jopson chuckled and said, “have a sip, sir.”

As he felt a cup of water tip against his lips, Edward smiled at how Jopson still managed to sound in charge even when he was tending to him. He took a cool mouthful and swallowed.

“We haven't finished yet,” Jopson warned, placing a knotted up cravat in Edward's mouth and fastening it behind his head. He gently pulled a few strands of hair from under the binding and let his hands roam over Edward's body.

Edward's groan when Jopson set hands upon his nipples was muted by the gag and he arched his back, full of desire. His movement tightened the ribbon around his prick and he let out a tiny strangled cry, then rolled his body to feel it again.

Jopson pinched a nipple, his fingers slick with oil, then tended to the other one, stretching the flesh between thumb and finger. Edward moaned deeply, biting into the gag as Jopson ran his tongue over it. A kiss and sucking quickly followed, sending Edward to the edge. He sensed Jopson move away again, followed by a soft click as a metal box opened and the lid set upon the desk.

Edward waited, every nerve on edge.

Something small, sharp and metal dragged along the nipples, scraping the skin, but not enough to break it. It set Edward's whole body twitching with intense pleasure. He searched his mind, trying to figure out what this exquisite instrument of torture could be, moaning through the gag as it was pressed down on a small sliver of skin. It continued scraping down his stomach and abdomen, sending his mind reeling as it crossed to his hip, slowly circling one buttock.

“Please,” Edward begged, his voice a muffled cry for release.

“Silence,” was the cold reply, despite the warm breath on Edward's neck as Jopson hissed his command.

Edward nearly fell into a faint from that voice and he tried to arch his back again, getting a firm hand pressed against the small of his back to stop him. He chewed at his cravat in frustration, suspended between joy and agony, waiting for what would come next.

He heard a slow sloshing sound, then flinched as a finger of oil pressed against his hole, the fingers of the other hand pressing hard into his buttock. Edward drooled into the gag, relishing the marks that would be left. He tried to shift his arse back, desperate for that finger to probe him, waiting for the prick that would follow. He was expected a pinch or a slap, but the hand withdrew, as the oiled-up finger slid inside him.

Edward shivered, pushing against the finger as it slicked him up. All he had to do was wait, and he'd have Jopson's prick inside him.

He waited, only to feel Jopson's fingers trail along his balls, followed by something utterly startling. Whatever had scraped his nipples was now cutting a path around his sack, the sensation so much more intense than before. Edward saw stars through the blindfold, and he nearly yelled when Jopson plunged his prick inside and started to fuck him.

Edward bit the gag, wanting to open himself to everything Jopson was doing to him. He was sure he could feel a small hole in the thin metal rod scraping his balls and focussed on the magnificent pain to stop himself coming.

Jopson slowed his thrusts until he was barely moving inside Edward, leaning in to whisper close to his ear, “I could stop and pull out and you'd love it. I could move fast and make it burn, still you would love it, beg for more. Shall I stop, sir?”

Edward shook his head, shaking the ropework. He gave a small forlorn whine as the rope burnt his ballsack, He'd do anything, say anything for more.

Jopson's voice came low and deep in the darkness. “You are mine, always and forever, sir.”

Edward nodded, repeating _yesyesyesyes_ in his mind as Jopson started fucking him again. Edward's prick started to spill, beads of pre-come dripping from the head and down the ribbon's knots. Jopson started tugging at it, his hand soft and hot, and it was only a few moments before Edward spent himself, the spill spurting over his chest and down Jopson's hand.

Edward felt his head spin, wondering if Jopson had set him loose and spinning in the air, but he was still bound and hanging, Jopson still ruining him with no letdown in speed. He clenched and relaxed, trying to match Jopson's rhythm, determined to satisfy him.

His reward came when Jopson came with a gasp, slumping a little against Edward. He made a few more slow thrusts before gently withdrawing, rubbing his drained prick against the cleft of Edward's buttocks and along to his balls.

Edward felt he was floating on a cloud, far above the world, wrapped in the warmth of his afterglow. Slowly, he became aware of a pressure upon his prick, the ribbon becoming tighter as he wilted. With a small, frustrated sigh Edward tried to wriggle about, hoping for friction to revive him. Better still, for Jopson to take him in hand, even though he felt like his whole body was buzzing already. The ribbon tightened more and Edward moaned a plea through the gag.

“Do you need something, sir?” Jopson's voice came as though through a fog.

As he nodded vehemently, Edward felt Jopson's fingers caress his hair and he felt as though lightning had struck. He felt a warm rush of air on his prick as Jopson set his lips on it, taking it deep in his mouth. Edward felt he was now in the middle of a tempest, his prick no longer straining against the ribbon, but the knots were now tight against his skin. Jopson's tongue worked its way over the knots, swirling around his newly aroused prick, sending confusing signals through Edward's body.

He spurted out his issue quickly and sank back into a daze, his breath hitching slightly as Jopson tenderly caressed his body.

Edward didn't feel it when he was untied and set back onto his bed, only a soft warmth as his nightshirt was put back on, and a blanket over him.

Jopson's soft massaging of his limbs felt as if from a dream and his voice like a half-forgotten song, heard on a summer breeze. “You are mine, forever and always. No other heart shall be yours while mine still beats. No other prick can fill you with as much joy as mine, sir.”

Sleepy-eyed, Edward watched the light shine on the bottle of olive oil like an amber gemstone. He stared in confusion as Jopson held up what appeared to be a hedgehog, tiny pricks gleaming in the light, and stabbed another small pin into it.

Realisation dawned on him, and he rasped, “it was a sewing needle!”

Jopson grinned and held the pin cushion closer to Edward, its cheerful little hedgehog face peering back at him. “My Ma made it from scraps of cloth,” he said quietly in his usual pleasant tone.

Edward's giddy laughter suddenly rang out, too loud in the night. “Whimsy! Such whimsy!”

Jopson stifled a laugh as he held a finger over his lips, nudging his head towards George's cabin. The soft snoring had abruptly stopped and an annoyed groan came through the wall, followed by a muttered, “I wish my dreams were as good as yours, Ned.”

Edward pulled the blankets around him like a cocoon and laughed softly into them, gazing up as Jopson quietly collected the equipment, the rope disappearing under his jacket. As George's snores resumed, Jopson turned the lamp right down and leaned in close in the darkness.

“I still intend to have you over the wardroom table, sir,” Jopson whispered in his ear, his voice dark and low.

Edward gasped into his blankets, almost coming again. He watched Jopson quietly leave and drifted into sleep.


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens in the wardroom, stays in the wardroom.

At breakfast the next morning, Edward kept his napkin over his lap, but he felt his prick stir every time Jopson came into view. He imagined everyone could see he had an snow-capped mountain in his lap and moved his chair in as close as he could to the table.

Hodgson groaned as he finished spreading marmalade on his toast. “Why does this always happen?”

Iriving poked at the orange smear on his cuff. “You have a loose button as well, George. Good thing Jopson's so handy with a needle.”

Edward spluttered into his tea, getting a gentle pat on his back from Irving. “Are you alright? Did it go down the wrong way?”

Edward nodded, steadfastly avoiding looking at Jopson who'd brought over a cloth and water and was busy mopping the stain from George's cuff. He found himself staring at the table, immediately remembering what Jopson had said about it. He lifted the tea cup and stared at the picture on the opposite wall instead. _Fortitude_ , yes, that's what he needed right now.

Crozier entered the wardroom just then. “Gentlemen, we have news. Everyone is invited over to _Erebus_ for a mid-morning meeting. Doctor McDonald and Mr. Helpman will be joining us, also.”

Edward saw Jopson's eyes flicker over to the doors of the surgeon's and clerk's bed-cabins set behind the wardroom, and he felt his prick surge again. _Surely not?_ Edward found himself thinking.

Crozier continued on, “Lt. Irving shall stay and oversee things here.”

Before he could think, Edward blurted out. “Perhaps it would be better to send John over? He could do with the experience, after all. I can stay.”

“Good idea,” Crozier affirmed, giving Irving a nod.

Irving positively glowed. “Thank you!”

As the breakfast dishes were cleared, Edward dawdled, thinking of stock levels, icebergs, _anything_ to be sure his erection had receded. He finally stood and ducked from the wardroom without a word whilst Jopson's back was turned to the sideboard. He knew that Jopson heard him leave, and there'd be an accounting for that soon enough. He relished the thought as he pottered around deck supervising the crew.

As soon as the officers had left Terror, Edward made his way back to the wardroom, getting a little attack of butterflies in his stomach when he found Gibson there with Jopson.

Jopson patted the book on the table and greeted Edward, pleasantly servile, “Lieutenant, I have the storeroom accounts ledger for you.” Turning back to Gibson, he added, “Mr. Gibson, please ensure we aren't disturbed, we have a lot of work ahead of us.”

Gibson placed the final set of cutlery back in its place and silently left the room.

Edward stared gloomily at the ledger as Jopson slid the door shut, putting the hook lock on the other door and making sure all the slats were shut.

“Is this my punishment, then? Reams of columns?” Edward asked, forlornly.

“All taken care of, you only need to check the tally,” Jopson assured him, adding, his voice low and almost growling, “of course, I expect your adding to be accurate, I should hate to punish you for careless arithmetic.”

Edward gripped the edge of the table, starting to grow hard at his words. “Will you- will you tie me to the table?”

Almost immediately, Jopson opened a cabinet and took out some rope and the bottle of oil. “Whatever sir desires.”

Edward fumbled at his trousers, tugging desperately as Jopson warmed the bottle in his hands. Edward bent over the table, arms clutching at the legs as Jopson tied the rope, looping it around his wrists. He quickly oiled Edward up, teasing him by rubbing his prick between his thighs and along his perineum, then eased inside him. Edward rocked back and forth, whispered for more, begged to go faster.

“I know how much you would have loved it if I threw you onto the table at breakfast, sir,” Jopson whispered. “Smothered you in marmalade and licked it off. Lieutenant Hodgson would have been so vexed there was none left for his toast.”

Edward found himself laughing, even as he was sinking into delirious ecstasy, and he moaned as Jopson started going at it harder.

Neither of them heard the footsteps, or the door sliding open until it was too late. “Jopson, where did I leave my-?” They both looked up at Crozier, who stared back, stunned into silence.

Both men cried out simultaneously. “Captain!”

Jopson pulled out and tackled the rope, hurriedly freeing Edward. He found himself babbling nonsense. “Captain, sir! Captain, this is not...Captain!”

 _This is not what it looks like? This is precisely what it fucking looks like_ , Edward thought to himself as he recomposed his uniform, wishing with all hope he was dreaming.

Blinking rapidly, Crozier somehow regained the ability to speak, his voice gentle and polite. “I beg your pardon, gentlemen. Do carry on. I can find it myself.” With that, he slid the door shut and receded to his great-cabin.

Edward had been staring at the floor since the door shut, and now he barely lifted his eyes. “How could you possibly be still hard? What in hell am I saying? We'll be strung up.”

Jopson looked down, then at the door, as Crozier's measured steps echoed along the alley. He smiled at Edward. “He's not angry, sir. I can tell. Please trust me.”

“Are you sure?” Edward asked, his gaze directed back at Jopson's prick.

“Yes,” Jopson answered gently.

“Then,” Edward started, his hand wandering to his trousers, “I think we should take care of that outstanding column and make sure the ledger is settled.”

As Edward braced himself against the table, gripping the ledger, Jopson eased back inside his arse, preparing to ream him.

“Yes, sir,” Jopson whispered darkly into Edward's ear.


End file.
